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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28816875">Unconditonally</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualreina/pseuds/bisexualreina'>bisexualreina</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bleak House (TV 2005), Bleak House - Charles Dickens</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Roller Coaster, Hurt/Comfort, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Other, bleak house re write, esther doesn't get taken away</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:26:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,630</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28816875</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualreina/pseuds/bisexualreina</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A re-write of everything that played out with Lady Dedlock &amp; Esther. Contains spoilers from Bleak House up to Episode 4 (for users in the US) and 8 (for users in the UK). Does not contain or mention of spoilers for the end!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Unconditonally</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/msgilliana/gifts">msgilliana</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Trigger and content warning: mention of a pretty unpleasant delivery with forceps and infection and just old time medicine that is pretty unpleasant for women.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The varnished walls of the hollow manor trembled with a splintering agony as the time came for the soon to be lady of the house to bring forth her secret into the cruel and unforgiving world. A secret that she harbored all on her own, feeling it grow in weight, as both a physical and spiritual burden on the small woman.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The storm whipped an angry, grey cloak of darkness against the bricked exterior, a bitter symphony cushioning against piercing wails, bloodied forceps, spiking fevers, and cruel intentions. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The trembling Lady Barbary knew her time could be drawing near, the knotting of dehydrated muscles a teller of the ending of one life- be it social, spiritual, orpossibly even physical, as the physician reached, tore, cut, and pulled on everything that should’ve been handled with the utmost care. Strangers never seen around the manor now painfully pinned her down, one hand digging her foot into the stale mattress, the other mirroring, with bruise forming grips. As she reached out in desperation for a hand, a comfort, she was met with another angry face holding her wrists unmoving, an early, paralyzing stint of rigor mortis caused by all who attended.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Strangled screams echoed through the empty halls, not a soul in sight allowed to lighten the burden off of the woman, her spirit aching as her body felt lit aflame by the hatred of men. A piercing fear raced through her, whether the child she bore would be cheated out of their first breath, just to be stolen back into the non discriminatory hands of death.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">More tears fell.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sobs tore through her as she desperately struggled, muscles growing weaker, energy depleting, the life flickering in and out of her eyes. She knew this was an end, but she didn’t know which.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She had been ordered to breathe, the physician linking a limp knee over his shoulder donned in brass buttons, digging into her clammy skin. Her eyes blurred with burning sweat as she felt a horrendous pulling sensation, as if each muscle was being torn apart piece by piece.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Eventually a tender release took pity on her heaving body, reducing the poor woman to a crumpled, sputtering mess atop the scratchy sheets. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Vision reducing, the Lady Barbary struggled, her consciousness slipping as murmurs remained low, their tones lulling her deeper and deeper into a warm sea of black, despite her present desire to fight and push against it’s inviting grip.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">…</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Honoria awoke to aching breasts and the same angry woman leaning her entire body weight into the tender, aching spot of her belly, blood spreading between her thighs. Moans of agony seeped out as she scanned the room for her one true focus, the reminder teasing the back of her mind.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With a weak effort she batted the woman away, the feeling of release once more catalyzing an exhale as her muscles expelled a membranous organ onto the scratchy wool.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With frantic eyes she continued to scan the room, searching for a hint, an inkling of her child. She searched for a hand, for the same fingers that she would feel palm against her from the comforting confines of her womb. She searched for tiny toes that playfully prodded at organs and bone. She ached to lay eyes on the face that she dreamt about, to caress their nose, eyes, and lips to solidify that they were truly real, and that this wasn’t one big nightmare.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>‘The child. Where is the child?’</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She had begged, the room now utterly silent as they exchanged wary looks with one another, catching sight of her sister who bitterly tended to a cross stitch in a corner without building up the courage to face her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Honoria was the eldest of the Barbary daughters, and her shameful actions brought tarnish to their name, risking status, respect, and wealth of the family, ultimately disgusting the woman she once considered a sister.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>‘Dead. Stillborn. Don’t worry yourself with it.’</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>It. </em>The word sitting like bile on her tongue as weak arms pushed her body up, muscles burning in protest as she faced the expressionless doctor. Disbelief washed over her, as a cold, piercing feeling of terror and grief began to blossom. There had been movements, tiny kicks of assurance as she felt the expulsion of a head between both thighs, a flinching hand against her leg, and a warmth that she could feel even as her consciousness left her for that short moment.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>They were not dead.</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At least that was what the desperate woman told herself, her body screaming in protest as she swung wobbling legs over the side of the bed, sheer determination getting her on two feet, followed by the feeling of blood trickling down her calves and thighs. Her nightgown hung lower upon the slight deflation of her abdomen, one hand holding it tenderly as she began to drag herself out of the room.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The manor felt less empty, a new presence residing in it’s walls. Sweaty brown curls fell against her cheeks, while the front two strands were pinned back hastily as she searched. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sight of a closed door at the end of the hall called out to her against the other open and vacant rooms, the sound of the whipping rain and freezing cold much louder as the angry sounds blew within it’s four walls. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A now primal focus washed through her as the desperate <em>mother</em> raced towards it, the trail of blood droplets that she left almost as a reminder of a battle wound. Agony washed over her with each step, but she knew each step drew her closer to whatever was behind that door, each one mindful of the end goal, motivating her to go as fast as her butchered body could handle.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With a grateful sob she reached the lacquered door, the wood cold against her palm while the other fumbled for the skeleton key hidden behind the sconce. With a momentous push of the door, a frightened gasp hitched in her throat at the sound of infant wailings, along with the sight of open French windows, shattered glass littering the floor beneath the frames from the sheer anger of the wind.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">However her eyes zeroed in on the wailing basket in the middle of the room, the painful ache washing over her body now slipping to the back of her mind as gentle hands reached down to retrieve the naked, wet baby, still coated in a now freezing layer of fluid, vernix, and bits of rainwater.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Eyes now filled with tears the mother pulled the whimpering baby close, noticing tiny fingers being sucked on to try and soothe her fears and anxieties. Being torn from her body simply to be thrust into the cold, cruel world to die.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Turning her back to the storm Honoria found herself stumbling to her knees, the hard wood against the sore bones lost on her as she gently rocked the baby, wails of both fear and relief overtaking her in the most intense way possible.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Feeling her freezing, damp skin, she swiftly tucked the squirming newborn inside of her nightgown, radiating enough heat through sheer will to try and warm her offspring. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She wanted to call for help, and rationally she knew that the both of them would succumb to a bitter death if she didn’t, acknowledging the still leaking blood from between her legs as she knelt on the cold, hard floor. However, she also knew that the evil men four doors down were the ring leaders behind all of this.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was in danger.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>They</em> were in danger.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">…</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sound of creaking footsteps against the floorboards caused Honoria to suck in a breath, checking once more that her tiny baby was still suckling on her fingers, promising to feed her once it was safe to do so.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">However, the face of a young maid peered inside, her brown eyes widening in horror at the sight she had come upon. Shattered glass, whipping storms, and Lady Barbary in a bloodied nightgown on the floor, a tiny being squirming beneath her dress.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With haste the young girl gathered the crumpled woman into her arms, carefully helping her to her shaking feet, feeling the burning fever against her skin. She knew acting fast was the key if she didn’t want her kind mistress’ blood on her hands.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Despite her young and petite frame, the young girl’s booming voice managed to clear the room of the physician and his uncaring assistants and lingering aristocrats. They both knew fully well that Honoria would not be able to make her life in the Barbary Manor with her child that the maid had noticed, wouldn’t be put down after how she had found her. However, she would not survive any journey out into the country in the state she was in.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The room had finally cleared, the privacy allowing the young girl to gingerly remove her lady’s nightgown, gasping at the open wounds, angrily bleeding from what she assumed to be a difficult delivery. Her stomach was swollen and tender, still red from the spots where the attending lady had kneaded and pressed, careful not to touch it. As she slipped it up and over her head, she noticed how her breasts sat painfully full, desperate for release upon the birth of the baby, her body now taking into account that it would be used to sustain a life while residing on the outside.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The new mother just lowered her eyes in shame, something she had grown used to over the past months of seclusion, her situation shameful as she was told. Taking pity on her lady who had always shown her kindness, the young maid carefully pulled the thick blankets back, now freshly replaced, spreading towels and clean linens atop her sheets. Gentle hands guiding her back in, the new mother settled with the now fussing baby, not bothering with a new nightgown, the both of them knowing that it would just ruin as fast as the stained one.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>'She needs to feed. For both of you.’ </em>The young girl had urged, Honoria now nodding in agreement as she tentatively allowed her to help, the famished baby rooting until finding what she was looking for.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As the tiny girl fed, the nurse, who then identified herself as Emma, began preparing a bowl of hot water, along with cleaned linens, soaking one before removing it to cool slightly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I need to clean you up, we can’t have you getting any more infections.” Her words were kind and gentle, a sharp contrast to the man who had worked on her for the better part of the day. Carefully spreading both knees, Emma began gingerly working, still resulting in sharp inhales from the exhausted woman, shifting in her nest of pillows that had been positioned.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The young girl finished up, leaving another soaked towel between her legs along with a spoonful of antibiotics from the physician before layering the warm blankets on top of the both of them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bringing a larger cloth out, and dipping it into the porcelain basin, Emma carefully reminded the now drifting Lady Barbary that the small infant would need a bath. She felt a sting of worry, that by handing her precious little being, that she’d be once again lost to her forever. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She would not make the same mistake again. The lord had taken pity on her, had given her a chance despite the grave sin she had committed, but even then she found it hard thinking of it in that way as she stared at her baby’s now flushed and content face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let me.” She requested softly, the young girl nodding as she set the basin beside her leg, careful that the porcelain would not burn her. Pulling the sated baby away from the comfort of her skin resulted in a squeak of protest before the nurse carefully helped her set her tiny being atop her thighs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ever so carefully she dipped the washing cloth into the hot water, blowing on the fabric until it was warm enough for her sensitive skin. With a touch softened by the fragility of this little life, Honoria tenderly wiped and washed, only a few squeals of protest coming from her plump lips. Carefully she ran the cloth through her thick brown hair, reveling in how soft it was, like the wisps of a feather.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With the blanket provided by Emma, she bundled the girl into the soft fleece, brushing a finger up and down her ruddy, pink cheek, leaning in to press a kiss against the tiny nose that nuzzled comfortably into her now sticky skin.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her fear still lingered, a voice in the back of her brain telling her to keep her close, that as long as she was in arm’s reach she could protect her from the evils out there for the both of them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But it was the back of her brain.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In the moment she just held her, sinking farther back into the cushions as the baby finally drifted off, exhausted herself from her eventful day and everything thrust at her from the minute she was brought into this world. She couldn’t bring herself to stop stroking the wrinkly soft skin of her tiny arm then trailing up to her puckered cheek, reveling in how tangible she was. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She had a daughter. Something hitting her like heavy steel, bringing a hormone riddled gush of tears to her eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shall you call her anything in particular?” The young girl asked as to break the silence, the mother not lifting her gaze from her tiny life that somehow meant more than her own in the moment. Her sister had always chastised her for daydreaming of a child that she’d name to sound like flowers, or love, or anything with hints of warmth, claiming that daughters would need strong names, to stand on their own. She had hinted at names such as Esther, one that could survive the brutalities of life, but Honoria could never bring herself to choose one as bleak as Esther.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Grace.” She settled, soft and light, her precious Grace that would become a strong beacon of hope and light in their lives. She loved her fiercely, and knew that in turn, she would hopefully love her as well.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She knew she needed rest if she were to heal properly enough to leave, but she couldn’t find it in her to let her go. Her arms still shook with worry and fear at the memory of how she had found her, the betrayal she felt with herself that she could no longer harbor her safe and sound within the confines of her body, that she couldn’t hang on longer until they were away from this danger.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I will make sure she doesn’t fall.” Emma nodded, noticing every inch of worry and fear on Honoria’s face. She nodded in relief at the offer, settling back onto the bed with her baby cushioned comfortably against her chest, settling to the soothing sound of her beating heart. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Despite her fears, her worries, and all of the physical and emotional agonies, she had her daughter, her beautiful Grace that she loved in abundance. Status meant nothing, she would find a new life, off in the country where they could be happy, live in peace, and never worry about this lingering terror returning. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She concentrated on the hummingbird heartbeat of her baby, the feeling different on the outside. However, it wasn’t any less special.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She loved her so, and to be loved in return was the only treasured keepsake that she would require. Amidst her healing being, she let her eyes fall shut, and before submitting to sleep, Honoria let out a soft smile.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was an idea that I got last minute, so please let me know what you think but please be kind! Thank you for reading:)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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